Qui Vivra Verra
by bananajan
Summary: Avianna is left with the Dursleys after defeating Voldemort, unhappy and abused she is rescued by the most unlikely of people. fem!harry
1. Chapter 1

"You're always reading princess stories, aren't you?"

Avianna remembered one time when she was around seven or so and one of her year mates asked her that one day. His name was Henry and he was new, and hadn't been scared off by Dudley to stay away from the freak. It's the only thing she could clearly remember about that day—well the only good thing; broken ribs curtesy of Vernon were always memorable.

Avianna would read this one book so often the pages would be dog-eared, the binding broken. She loved the princesses who wore worn-out clothes all the time and had bad luck, it reminded her of herself. Unwanted. Orphaned. A burden. At the end, these girls who started out so pitifully had become more beautiful than anyone, and loved the most by all.

Living happily with their prince.

It was a nice thought.

Yes, those were her favorite stories.

Avianna often suspected that someday she wanted to become like those princesses in those books. She wanted that kind of life. A happy one, the kind where a magic fairy would wave around a wand and turn her life around. But magic wasn't real- the Dursleys' always drilled into her head.

A small part of Avianna was probably still waiting for that childish dream to come true. It was a nice thought, definite a captivating one. Everyone wishes to be swept off their feet, wants their problems to disappear. That never happened.

Avianna guessed herself to be too unloveable for any storybook character to come and take care of her—fix her. She couldn't wait around crying. Avianna needed to learn how to stand up and be strong by herself, because not everyone gets lucky enough to have a fairy godmother.

After all, she was never good enough to be saved. She was a freak, an outcast of society who had a drunk of a father and a whore of a mother. At least that's what Aunt Petunia told her about them.

She would get a hard smack if she asked too many questions about them.

Instead of wishing, Avianna prayed to whatever God was listening.

Her future was coming and he was dressed impeccably in black.


	2. Chapter 2

Severus Snape was accused of many things throughout his life. He was the type of person that collected lots of rumors—some outlandish, others spot on. It was never the same.

No one could really ever say that they knew the man. He was in a way, unapproachable, as the rumors flying around him. He seemed less of a human and more of a beast of a man.

In a word, Severus Snape was an enigma.

However, one never believed that he had feelings nor was capable of such a feat. In fact, most didn't even believe he cared about people or even liked them to begin with. Things like that didn't suit such a formidable reputation that he had.

If you asked any Slytherin, they would tell you that love was a unnecessary weakness. That loving someone was an undisputed joy. Love didn't make things nice. Love in a nutshell was a pain in the arse and was nothing like what they told you love was like. It was messy and hurtful and it ruins everything.

Severus was convinced that that kind of love for a one and only someone, doesn't exist in him anymore. He didn't need love. Didn't want to get hurt again, because love after all is only painful.

He tried loving someone once. His Lily.

It wasn't a perfect fairytale romance. That kind of perfection wasn't meant for human were meant to ruin themselves and break their hearts and to love the wrong people.

No. Severus Snape wasn't blinded by those kinds of delusions of how love was _supposed_ to be. His heart was already frozen and shattered to pieces and locked away into a locked trunk inside his very soul. He was in his own cold hell, frozen by the past unable to move forward.

It was easier for him to just remain that way for the rest of his life. Think that for the rest of his life, that frozen cracked heart would never melt. He didn't hold any aspirations for love, and he wouldn't believe in love ever again.

After all, he was unlovable and thus incapable of loving another.

So when Dumbledore announced that the Potter child needed to be check up on because of some reason or another, he sneered at the idea of checking up on James Potter's spawn and see a spoilt, obnoxious brat marring the beautiful memory of his lily.

Unfortunately, Severus was the only one available with the knowledge of navigating through a muggle town without needing to obliviate some fool that saw something unnecessarily.

He had a plan. Get in, get out, get away. First he would to go to Tuney's house and look in their window. Once he confirmed Albus's worries were as usual as outlandish as his clothes, he would go back to his quarters in the dungeon and relax with a nice glass of wine and a book.

Or so he thought.

When Severus first walked up to Number 4 Privet Drive, he was nauseated by the sheer likeliness of every house on the block. As if everyone was allergic to deviating from the cookie cutter dwelling. It was pathetic. As if they all shared the same brain.

More the reason to be quick about this pointless task.

Severus purposefully walked to the door and was about to knock when he heard a loud crash.

"WHAT THE BLAZES DID YOU DO NOW GIRL?"

"Uncle, I didn't mean—"

"YOU WONT GET AWAY WITH THAT KIND OF FREAKINESS AS LONG AS I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT IT."

"Uncle, please—"

 ** _SMACK_**

Having heard enough, Severus bust the door and entered upon a scene he never once believed he would have seen today.

A purple walrus shaped man holding a frail child with raven hair by the scruff of her neck, most likely leaving bruises. The girl's arm was hanging limply at her side at an unnatural angle, and spots of blood was on the floor.

Severus, livid, at seeing such abuse, sprung into action. Restraining that _thing_ with a simple flick of his wand before turning his attention to the waif-like child, Severus felt the blood leave his face as he made eye contact with he girl. He knew those eyes.

That unmistakable clear green color. It sparked a happy memory of Lily and him, of better times. Simpler times.

He felt that one moment of happiness run off as if the devil himself announced his arrival when he heard the girl sniffle back unshed tears. At that moment he knew that no matter what happened, this would mean the end of the life he had been living so far, the life that revolved around him and him alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Unfocused eyes gazed at the pretty ink printed across the crisp white paper where lovely words rested. Avianna usually enjoyed her time in her cupboard when she would read in the dim light. It was her time alone, something of which she never really got much of. However, she couldn't enjoy this particular book as she was thrown in there from Aunt Petunia.

Avianna had, unfortunately, accidentally dropped one of her Uncle's brandy glasses when she had been doing the dishes that morning. Aunt Petunia smacked her with her shoe before shoving her into the broken glass pieces while primly telling her to clean up.

After the glass was cleaned up, Avianna was thrown into the cupboard under the stairs.

"I'll be sure to inform Vernon of this mess. He'll sort you out while Dudders and I are at the cinema." Her Aunt made sure to say so that she knew this wasn't the end of her punishment.

Leaving Avianna in darkness, hearing only the **thump thump** of her heartbeat, she dreaded waiting until her Uncle got home. The anticipation of punishment was as nerve-wracking as the actual discipline.

The black letters starkly stood out mockingly as she read, thrusting her into her dark memories where she remembered certain _particular_ punishments and when those beatings turned into… more; when it all started.

It began the first and only time Uncle Vernon was actually nice to her. Aunt Petunia took Dudley out that day, and Vernon had come home early from work. He said since it was just the two of them why don't they go out. He would get her ice cream and they could go to the park.

Not wanting to anger her short-fused Uncle, Avianna had quickly agreed. He took her to a little ice cream shoppe. She had be greedily eying up the chocolate and was excited to try it for the first time. As with most children her age, it was inevitable that some spilled onto her shirt. Instead of getting mad like she expected him to be he just said it was fine and they could go buy her a new dress. She never had a dress before, Aunt Petunia always had her in Dudley's oversized hand-me-downs.

Uncle Vernon did intact take her to a small little store and got her pink frilly dress. Avianna was ecstatic! It was the best day ever. She remembered the compliments, the charming empty words he whispered in her ear as his hand lingered on her shoulder. She was happy about it at first, happy with the praise. He complimented her eyes, comparing them to gems and uttering other sweet words of nothingness.

She was seven at the time and it was the first time Uncle Vernon was ever nice to her. She thought perhaps she was finally being accepted. She never even suspected that he wanted more.

He brought her back to the house and that's when it happened. He didn't say anything afterwards. Just a gruff word to dismiss her.

Avianna took herself to the bathroom to clean up. Thats when she saw just how ugly she really was because she wasn't that pretty little girl in a new dress. She was a shell of a person, nothing like that eager, innocent child she was earlier that afternoon. That little girl that he showered with compliments. How now Uncle Vernon could talk about the smeared tears on the left side of her face, the lines under her eyes on her cheek where he pushed her on the pillow. How bloodshot those gem colored eyes seemed now, how wide they go at the slightest sound, how glassy and unblinking they seem, how they always seem to be darting away from eye contact.

How her sloppily cut hair obscuring her eyes from even being viewed, offered her a sense of comfort. Wishing she could have gone back and screamed.

Those pretty words mean nothing now because all that can be seen are the tear tracks running down red splotched cheeks. Slamming her clenched hands on the counter, Avianna felt for the first time in her life that a slightly murderous intent. Unclenching her hand, she grabbed a broken pencil.

 _"Fitting,"_ she thought. _"Broken, just like me."_

She couldn't exactly say she had a good life before that moment, but no matter how hard she tried to forget, she was still unable to forget that painful memory. It haunted her. So now, sitting in her small bed, surrounded by a dusty pillow that almost seem like a barricade against the outside world. She waited in trepidation until her Uncle's arrival, hoping her infraction had only earned her a few missed meals and some lashes.

Sighing as she looked back her book and upon the page that refused to turn, Avianna stretched her legs out in her small confines.

Avianna thought about when she was younger and spent so much time trying so hard to please the Dursleys, analyzing every conversation she had with them, trying to be so good and nice and polite. Back when she cared.

She would have broke her arms and legs for them every morning and lie in agony if she knew it would please them. Kept quiet when all she wants to do was let her heart escape from her mouth and wander on it's own. They would still beat her even then. Degrade her until she was nothing. She knew that. Thats why after Vernon crossed that line, above the physical abuse, Avianna had built a will as strong as she could around her emotions; around her reactions.

The secret to not letting everything get to her was to almost detach herself from her body and mind. As it was no matter how much you change the words expressing something, it still remains the same. She was still that abused girl, but yet she wasn't.

Even when they told her she was different, she was still a human with a beating heart same as them. Using that difference as an excuse to oppress and divide people is foolish. She knew that. She never meant to do anything… freaky. Sometimes it just happened and it was not something to be controlled by others. It kept her comfort, and she decided that anything that managed to make her feel safe, even if it was _abnormal_ , it couldn't be all bad.

"Don't judge a book by its cover," Her teacher once said. "It's insides are far more important than it's outsides."

It stuck with her.

So when Uncle Vernon finally made his appearance at home and Aunt Petunia informed him of all the grievances Avianna had committed, she wasn't expecting much more out of her day rather than another beating. Or worse.

Avianna never imagined that she had a dark clad savior that would tie up her Uncle after she had been first she didn't know what he would do. The stranger seemed content to just stare at her.

Finally the man cleared his throat, and slightly softening his obsidian gaze, he introduced himself, said his name was Severus Snape, Potions Master and Potions Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

 _"What strange names,"_ Avianna thought before returning her own name. She was always proud of her name, it was  hers and nothing the Dursley's could do to take it away.

"Avianna Lillian Potter."

And with that, life as she knew it was about to change forever.


	4. Chapter 4

Severus was absolutely disgusted with the purple-faced pig of a man currently held against a pristine white wall with his wild magic. How could Dumbledore let the fabled Girl-Who-Lived stay with such muggles?

Organizing his thoughts methodically, he knew that she could not stay here another day. Albus could forget about the damn bloody wards or any other excuse to keep Lily's child in such a state. Quirking his already tilted head, he realized how quiet the girl was. Then again, he hadn't replied to her after her introduction.

Clearing his dry throat, he decided to throw caution to the wind and as typical of his personality he decided to be blunt and to the point.

"Your arm, if you would," He drawled in a slow and deliberate manner.

The Potter-Brat—no Avianna, trembled as she lifted her arm slowly seeming to be ready to tear it back from him if he was to do her any harm.

Carefully, almost as if he was lifting one of the Queen's prized china, he inspected her arm. It already had splotchy bruises forming on her creamy ivory skin. Her wrist appeared to be broken, and her shoulder was probably dislocated. Scratch that, it was most definitely dislocated as he felt around the area applying a slight pressure.

He observed the girls face. It remained stoic and unchanged as he prodded and assessed her current visible injury.

She simply stood gravely with her head cocked slightly to the side and looked confused by his quick assessing ministrations. As if she couldn't comprehend why he cared. When she saw his staring she quickly lowered her head allowing the mess of curls to curtain around her face.

Getting out some Bruise-Balm from his emergency potions kit, he set out to alleviate a little of the obvious pain she was in.

She was obviously curious as she looked on to his treatment.

Well as much as she could see through the sloppily cut hair that seemed to obscure her eyes from even being viewed.

When he first thought about the girl, he wondered if Lily's eyes would prevail over Potters, he wouldn't have been shocked to know that Potter's DNA were as overbearing and obnoxiously present as Potter himself had been. But from what he could see on the left side of her face was far from expected.

Where Lily's were all sparkling green, Avianna's were dim. Instead of stunning emeralds, de only saw how bloodshot they seemed, how impossibly wide they opened every time they darted to the tub of lard crumpled on the floor.

He looked at the unblinking eyes that were haunted by the burden that was her life.

Feeling the familiar heat of anger rise, Severus decided that nothing in their current place was going to do any good. The muggle filth obviously could not be harmed further, Dumbledore would know immediately. He couldn't leave her, knowing what he did.

Needless to say, Severus was in a conundrum— between a troll and a giant as they say.

Relinquishing his magic hold on Dursley, the man dropped to the floor with a resounding bang. Idly, he wondered how the ground managed to stay intact under such strain.

With a quick flick of his wand, he quickly tampered with it's memories, leaving no reason to believe anything out of the ordinary happened. He noticed that Potter was unnervingly silent as he set about covering their tracks. He could neither leave her in this hell, nor deposit her in another; he knew of no family that he trusted with her, or of any place with adequate protection for her—Dumbledore was out of the question.

It left him. Severus Snape. Overall a cruel and unusual choice for anyone, but then again she was already in a cruel and unusual place to begin with.

"Girl." He noticed the body flinch, and with an incredible softer tone, he tried again.

"Avianna."

Her eyes got even bigger than he could have imagined. Or so they looked huge with her gaunt, hallow cheeks and pale face. She looked at him with open curiosity, but trepidation lurked in her very rigid stance.

"Avianna, you don't know me, but I was friends with your mother. She was very dear to me. I swear on my life and magic that I will never hurt you. I simply wish to help you to heal. Will you allow me to?"

What was only seconds which seemed like eternity he waited for her permission.

Severus Snape could say with all honesty that his chest rose with relief when he was graced with a small nod from the girl.

With one last flick of his wand, he reluctantly set the abomination littering the floor back to rights making sure that there wasn't a hint of what occurred. Lifting her with ease due to her feather light stature, he walked away from her prison with a silent vow to keep her protected.

He would die before she would return to this prison. He would be damned before he let Albus place her in another. Sanctuary was in his arms— a thought that was unknowingly echoed by the girl he cradled.


	5. Chapter 5

Avianna had never seen someone such as him before. Severus, he said his name was, Severus Snape.

He called himself a Potions Master, whatever that was. And he carried a little wooden stick around. He seemed to have the same freakish powers her Aunt always accused of her having.

Despite his sharp stares and his initial gruff demeanor, Avianna had never been cradled in another arms. It made her feel… cared for.

Even his name was pretty. Well she supposed handsome was more apt— after all boys weren't pretty, only girls were pretty. Boys always got particular about stuff like that.

He gave off an air of a dignified, cultured man. Despite him wearing a black dress.

"I would have you know that these are my teaching robes Miss Potter."

Avianna looked away. She hadn't meant to mumble. It was a terrible habit that had gotten her in trouble more times than she could count. Sometimes it was hard to keep silent. The Dursleys reveled anytime they got a rise out of her. She knew that. She hadn't meant to offend the dark man and get scolded. She was merely curious.

Avianna gave a small sound to acknowledgment to his words. She went back to burrowing in his arms, pressing her face into the soft fabric as scents of herbs wafted toward her senses. He smelled heavenly. None of that heavy grease that seemed to perpetually cling to Dudley. Nor was it that overly sweet smelling floral perfume that her Aunt favored. It was a more natural, earthly scent.

Herbal, she would say.

Avianna smiled slightly as she heard him mutter about propriety and manners and how children obviously lacked observational skills that were afforded to them and worried about her mental capabilities if she couldn't tell the difference between a muggle dress and his robes.

For a man who likes to wear dress-like "teaching" robes, he obviously liked to go off on soliloquy-like tangents.

He also seemed like he held a lot of pride. He gave her the impression of being stubborn, almost excessively so. A neurotic, perhaps? Anyway he seemed like a troublesome guy. Probably just a bit twisted.

Misunderstood.

It seemed as though they were a perfect match.

His steady heartbeat drummed in tandem to his quiet breathing. It was like an orchestra of calm, meant to dull her senses as soon she succumbed to sleep as she gazed at the night sky. After all she was just a star; and he was her constellation.


End file.
